Julius Caesar

"Is he in London?" I asked impatiently on the phone as a masseuse massaged my free hand.

It hadn't occurred to me that Julius might've headed there but when Philip suggested it, it didn't seem so...despicable. And when it disturbed me deeply as to why he'd be there, Philip was quick to answer- to look for the girl, Sam.

It seemed absurd in the beginning but after processing it, I knew that it was plausible. Julius' mind was like a Rubik's cube that I only seemed to understand its strategy. It made perfect sense because he disappeared from the hospital and hadn't even been at his slut's -Audrey- burial, which meant that he was after something more important.

Revenge. My idiotic, moronic son wanted revenge. He'd always be an arrogant, childish, complaining boy.

"I don't know yet-" Augustus replied on the other side.

"It's been long enough," I said with frustration. "I'm not sure if I should've assigned you to-" I rambled as I glared at the masseuse who was starting to remove my rings. She noticed and left them in place.

"It's been less than twenty-four hours, Dad. Chill-" He wasn't being serious and I got angrier.

"Are you joking around?" I shouted on the phone. There was a long pause before he started laughing and wheezing. I squeezed my eyes shut, smiling involuntarily.

Well. Augustus was Augustus.

"Of course I'm not joking, Daddy, but I'll see if he's in London that Julius guy of yours. Who is he anyway?" He asked curiously and I sighed.

"None of your business. Just find him, okay? I'll send you his picture later today. Remember, you'll get double the usual reward." I said, studying the rings on my fingers. Black and sapphire.

"Double the reward? For just finding a person? You're spoiling me. I'm not a brat-" He said sarcastically. "Dad?" Augustus then said shortly after a pause.

"Yes?"

"You do realize that I'm not doing this for the money, right?" He said seriously and I shook my head, knowing where this was going. "I like it when you involve me in what you do-"

"Augustus, we've had this conversation before. Me making you look for Julius is all you're getting. Help me try protecting you." I stated crossly and heard him chuckle.

"I know, I know- just messing with you, old man." He said and laughed lightly. I sighed heavily.

I knew he wasn't really 'messing' with me.

"Alright, one more thing-" He paused and I sighed. "Daddy?"

"What's it?"

"It's really important. Are you ready?"

"August, seriously?"

"Hey, listen-"

"I am. So very patiently."

"Okay-" He took a deep breath. "So I was hanging out with my mates in the-"

"Get to the point."

"I am, but you keep interrupting-" He pressed with a laugh. I sighed. "Anyway. So David. One of my mates-"

"I'm going to hang-"

"August."

"So he makes up this so very sophisticated sex joke. Wanna hear?" I raised my brows unamused. "It's-oh my god- lit. I bet you will relate." He guffawed and I shook my head, lowering the phone to hang up.

"WAIT, wait, DAD, DON'T HANG UP-" Then another fit of laughter burst from my phone's speakers before I hung up, smiling.

What nonsense.

I relaxed back into the sofa in the living room, watching some old, boring movie and sipping on a cold, strawberry smoothie. I then sighed heavily and kept switching channels.

Julius' POV.

I woke up from my dreamless sleep as my phone rang. I groaned, rubbed my eyes, and twisted my upper body to reach for it from my bedside table. I held it blankly as I squinted at the bright screen. I read the name and hit my head on the pillow with a huff.

Caroline.

I held my phone in front of my face and took my time to roll my eyes and grimace before considering whether or not should I answer the call. I ended up answering anyway- people got offended by rejected phone calls (especially if they're not close to you) and I obviously couldn't afford to lose Caroline, who proved very useful. Who knew? Maybe, I'd use her again.

It was nineteen hundred hours and I was in no mood of talking to speakers.

"Hey!" She exclaimed and I had to put the phone away from my ears, scowling.

"Hi. Caroline." I stated, trying not to sound sleepy as she giggled.

"Since you're coming to the party, can please you do me a favour? Like a really important one?" She asked in her squeaky voice and I remained silent for a while choosing between the following possibilities:

1. Hang up on her. (And to hell, with her thinking I was rude.)

2. Tell her the truth that I won't be going. (Turning down an invitation is also offensive, I guessed.)

3. Kill myself. (But then Audrey would've died for nothing.)

"Romeo? Hello-?"

"I'm still here." I chuckled nervously. "Yes, sure what?" I said, realizing that I have abandoned my three options which meant one thing and one thing only.

Going to the bloody party.

"Yay! So, I was at the salon doing my hair. And when I was done, Johnny and Ben left in my car as a stupid prank. And like...I don't like public transport alone. So how about you come and give me like a ride or something?"

For a moment, I couldn't blame Johnny and Ben for doing what they did.

"Yes. Okay. Sure. What's its name?"

She gave me the salon's name, thanked me profusely then hung up.

I inhaled deeply, got out of bed, pulled on my jeans, a plain, white shirt topped with my new leather jacket, and left with a cigarette dangling from my lips. I took a cab to the salon and when I reached, I took a moment to observe her closely.

She stood looking stunning in her short, scarlet dress that revealed a little cleavage that she tried covering by a silky, black shawl that covered her shoulders. She was tapping her silver, sparkly stilettos on the damp pavement, her arms crossed across her chest. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze unfocused on her phone as her golden curls shone beautifully under the salon's bright lights.

Pretty but a pain in the neck.

I told the driver to wait for a few minutes, got out of the cab, and walked to her in long, confident strides. She noticed me before her pink-glossed lips broke into a grin.

"Romeo, you're such a lifesaver, oh my life!" She threw herself over me and my eyes widened as I staggered back, not expecting the embrace. I steadied myself quickly and hugged her back half-heartedly (no, eighth-heartedly) while gritting my teeth in pain.

How more could my wound be bloody conspicuous? It was cast in a sling, dammit, Caroline.

She pulled back, her hands still on my shoulders.

Okay. Something you should know about me is that I hate being touched- if I haven't said that before. That girl was 2.25 seconds away from getting punched in her pretty face when she suddenly said something that completely caught me off guard.

"You know? You're a very nice person Romeo." She sighed dreamily and smiled.

"I am?"

She giggled and I looked at her curiously. "Like Ben thinks you're a bad person, and I shouldn't have trusted you and all. But I think he's so wrong-" She paused and looked in my eyes.

I was already feeling uncomfortable by the seemingly intimate eye contact we were having and was ready to detach her arms from my shoulders in any second.

"We could, you know, know each other more. We could get closer-" She leaned in, fluttering her cat eyes, and I was praying God for any natural disaster to save me from this. It was completely uncivilized and unacceptable. She was literally throwing herself over me. I didn't know what to do and was actually panicking. Pushing her away would definitely let her hate me.

Then a sharp 'beep' distracted her, and I used this moment to shrug off her arms to look back at the cab's driver who was pointing at his watch.

I looked back at a blushing Caroline and grinned in great relief.

"Okay, Caroline. It's time to go. Oh, I forgot to tell you that you look absolutely stunning today." I added, biting back my laughter at the disappointment etched on her face.

She couldn't possibly think that I was interested in her. I genuinely hoped not. Because she was bound to get the worst rejection in her little, empty life.

By the time we reached the party, I was already grilled to the bone with so many questions from Caroline's side. All irrelevant, useless questions which placed her under the 'amateur-amateur' category.

When she excused herself because she was the 'host', I was ecstatic.

Good bloody riddance.

I looked at the huge villa that was drenched in a carpet of darkness. Everyone was half-naked and glowing as they danced drunkenly to the upbeat. The swimming pool was somehow glowing too as people jumped into it, laughing, or got pushed into it.

Not my scene- I disapproved immediately as I watched a topless lady puke in a bush, hair held up by another half-naked lady, chattering on her phone and chewing gum.

The darkness and the crowdedness demanded more alertness and vigilance. I didn't like that.

I walked like a shadow between the glowing people and past the place with UV paint where people painted their bodies and faces while guffawing about something or the other. I soon reached the glowing bar where the bartender was a lady in a bra and shorts, with glowing eyelids, lips, cleavage, and fingers.

Interesting.

"What would you like, sir?" She said playfully as she rested her elbows on the bar and leaned across it so her glowing breasts almost fell out.

"Margarita," I stated solidly and she giggled.

"Why so down, darlin'?" She pouted jokingly and I smirked, eyeing her curiously. "And why aren't you glowiiing?" She stood straight, bent down then came up only to splatter paint over my shirt and forehead.

The next moment I found myself holding her forearm firmly and dragging her across the bar, toward me with a sneer. Her face was a few inches from mine. She looked into my eyes, terrified as her mouth hung open unable to form coherent words. I immediately let her go.

"Oh- I'm sorry-" I started and instantly got to my feet, but she stumbled back, away from me and ran outside the bar. I took a deep calming breath and sighed. I had to keep my anger in check. Besides, it was a bloody party, what was I expecting?

I touched my temples, disgusted by the paint's liquidy sensation, and stared at my pink, glowing fingertips before wiping them off on my jeans and getting up. I needed to stop looking and acting like a lunatic grandfather if I were to disguise properly.

Goodness gracious, all I wanted was Sam Ricardo. Why did I get stuck in all that drama? And to worsen matters, it was the kind of drama that I was never a part of in my life. Whiny women, parties, small talk, etc.

So, naturally, I had to walk right into somebody, to get some liquid on my shirt when I was already cold to the bone.

I looked up, biting my tongue in frustration, and found none other than the guy at the bar, looking at me in surprise.

"No bloody way! It's you! The bar guy! Romeo!" He shouted over the thumping music, and I stared at him, wide-eyed.

Nope- no-huh, please no- God please send an air-borne vacuum to suck me out of existence.

"Yes, and it's you- uh-" I tried to search my head for his name but found it impossible in this horrendous atmosphere. Music, people dancing and colliding with me every microsecond, dancing lights (which I had no idea why someone would invest in if they cannot illuminate properly- add to that, their ability to give me a screaming headache).

I was awfully displeased.

"Augustus. See? That's why I wanted to change my name. No one remembers it-" He said, smiling.

I looked at him. His almost white hair stood haphazardly in glowing spikes above his head, giving his blue eyes an ethereal glow. He wore nothing but khaki shorts while his chest had a glowing butterfly on it and a dangling whistle.

"It's beautiful, right?" He said when he noticed me gawking at him. "I insisted on drawing it." He pointed at the butterfly and I snorted.

"Yes. Beautiful. Of course." I squinted as a moving spotlight shone in my eyes.

Bloody spotlight.

"My dear friend, you seem lonely and bored. How about we do something together?" He shouted in my ears and I realized we were walking.

"Really? Like what?" And that was supposed to be a no- I thought as I chanted ′don't be unpleasant′ under my breath.

"Like first, take off your jacket." He said loudly, waving a hand toward me.

"Take off my jacket? It's absurdly cold." I said, shoving my hands deep into my jacket's pockets.

"How do you think I feel, mate?" He looked at me incredulously as I glanced at his bare chest again. "My nipples are currently two tiny, shrivelled raisins. Seriously. Take it off." He stopped walking and waited for me to take off my jacket.

I sighed in defeat, shrugged it off carefully, and gave it to Augustus who placed it on a nearby chair.

"Take off that shirt too."

And there was no way I was taking it off. I had horrendous scars on my back and needed to hide them away from prying eyes. I was very self-conscious about them and couldn't help it because the explanation behind them was quite humiliating.

Sensing my hesitation, Augustus continued. "It's already wet. What's its point?"

He was particularly right. So here I was, standing amidst, possibly, a hundred drunk, supposedly responsible adults, trying to find a way out of this predicament as I watched a person I barely know wait for a response.

So I had to compromise again. It was dark and no-one would notice. Besides, I was quite sure Augustus was drunk himself. So I peeled off the shirt, threw it on the same chair, quickly reached for my jacket and draped it over my back. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

I sighed in relief but cursed under my breath when a cold, unwelcome breeze blew right through my jacket and hair.

"Okay, Romeo. Lemme paint something on you!" He was too excited and I had to stop it. So I put out a hand.

"No. Do not. Please. I'd rather not-" I started uselessly.

"Please don't be the one to draw or don't draw in the first place?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Both." I felt bored beyond words and wondered if I could possibly slip out any time soon and return peacefully to my motel.

"That's it. I'm doing both!" He exclaimed, dragging me toward the painting stall. I pulled my arm away from his clutch as he bent to collect some brushes dripping in the paint.

"Okay. I can draw butterflies, stars, hearts-" He paused as if to remember. "Oh, and cars! What would you like?"

I cringed at the collection from which I had to choose from. "Stars?"

"Okay. Simple. I'm perfect at this. Do you want a pink or yellow glow?" He questioned, raising the corresponding brush to each colour. "I recommend yellow, though, like I did, because we have the same hair colour. What do you say?"

"Yellow," I stated bitterly, and he started drawing as I felt my skin crawl under the cool paint.

He then looked up, throwing away the brushes. "Done! Uh- the middle star is a little big though-" He pointed at my torso. "But that's okay. Perfection is overrated, really."

"That's very generous of you. Augustus." I said between my teeth as I smiled slightly, staring at the disaster on my chest.

"Don't even mention it, mate."

"Oka-"

"ROMEO!" A familiar voice rang in my ears and I instinctively turned to find none other than a glowing Caroline walking toward me.

"Looks like the fun's here! I'll leave you, then. The bartender is waiting for me-" Augustus shouted/whispered in my ears, and I almost ironically begged him to stay before he slipped away into the crowd.

I took a deep breath and faced the other disaster. Caroline had glowing yellow spots lining her cheekbones, nose bridge, the top of her eyebrows, and her collarbones. She handed me a drink and I took it.

"I see you've blended in!" She shouted over the music which I impossibly tried ignoring for the past half an hour.

"Yes. It's a nice party." I commented grimly.

"I'm glad you like it!" She sipped on her drink, then looked down at my body to laugh. "Who drew those stars?"

I looked down at myself distractedly. "A dear friend." I enunciated ridiculously.

She then nodded, smiled sweetly, and sipped more of her drink. I stared at her hair that shone under the lights, unfocused, as I daydreamed about what I'd be doing if I wasn't dragged to this stupid party.

Sleep, probably.

"Want to see my bedroom? It's quieter than here." She suggested suddenly and I thought anything quieter than 'here' would be really desirable at the moment.

"Yes. Please."

"Follow me."

And I did.